A Very Bad Day
by LFB72
Summary: Merlin wakes up in an odd place, at an odd time with no recollection of how he got there. He struggles with the rest of his day but things keep going wrong and even his magic seems against him. Those around, him seem obvious to his troubles and progressively worsening state. Will they notice his torment before it's too late! Contains, Merlin Whump, Sick!Merlin and Angst.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, all rights belong to the BBC.**

**This story is dedicated to Veilwhuurah, for without her support and encouragement this would never have been written.**

**I was hiding in the fan fiction closet reading and then I poked my head out and wrote some reviews but it was Veilwhurrah, who gave me the confidence to fully emerge and try writing something myself.**

**I can't thank her enough, and strongly recommend you look at her work. It is excellent, detailed and emotive – an inspiration to us all!**

**This small story is all finished, checked and ready to go, it is my intention to post one bite sized chapter each night. It should all be done and dusted by the end of the week.**

**I hope you enjoy it and any feedback would be most welcome, thank-you.**

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Chapter 1 The Armoury:

He was lying on his back, at a very awkward angle, not a position he would have chosen. His face was side on and hard against the ground and he was aware of dust and grit in his mouth which was quickly expelled. His head throbbed but Merlin opened his eyes and was assaulted by bright light, he was in the armoury, pieces of metal strewn all over the floor. He searched the room for an assailant - there was none, nor was there any sign of a struggle.

Merlin did a body check, all limbs present and correct, nothing seemed bruised or broken, it was then he became aware of something wet seeping into the fabric of his clothes. He reached down tentatively, fearing the worst, closing his eyes briefly before examining his fingers, oil. A bit of grease, that had been his down fall.

On the way to ensuring the Once and future king's assent to the throne, Merlin had defended himself, Arthur and the kingdom against all manner of domestic and non domestic threats, vanquishing malevolent magical forces with the bat of an eye and now Emrys, the mighty warlock had been unceremoniously brought to his knees and rendered useless by an oily rag. He shuddered, if only the Druids could see their saviour now.

Feeling slightly ashamed, the young servant went about the business of picking himself off the floor and clearing the mess before him. The action of getting up caused his head to pound and his eyes to smart, but no other injuries were discovered. Examining his reflection in Arthur's breast-plate provided no evidence that Merlin had ever been lying unconscious on a stone floor for the best part of an hour. He felt cheated to feel so bad and have nothing to show for it, no war wounds to explain his absence or generate sympathy for his befuddled state.

Merlin reeled off a quick spell, so the chores could start doing themselves and suddenly had to duck a flying sword. A flash of gold and the mace that had been making its way towards him like an unbidden missile halted.

"_What the...?!" _

He tried again, and had to cross his arms over his head almost instantly to dodge flying shrapnel and once more he instinctively stopped the magic. What was going on? This had never happened before.

The language of the old religion was complicated and tricky to pronounce, getting even the intonation wrong could change the whole nature of the incantation but it had always been honey on his tongue. The words slipped effortlessly from his lips, ready to do his bidding. Not today, today, Camelot's secret sorcerer had effectively vomited his way through several aborted spells and results had not been pretty, downright ugly in fact. Merlin sighed and looked about the room; it was in a worse state than when he woke up. His gift was giving him trouble and he could not fathom why. He would just have to clean up in his own time, which was limited at best. Merlin would have to come up with a reason for why his master's guard brace was bent beyond recognition and charred at the end but he would think of something, he always did.

He released the pressure the heels of his hands had placed on his forehead and untangled his long fingers from the mop of black hair, he had better get started - this could take a while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much to everyone that has read, favourited, followed and taken the time to review. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, as opposed to the washing machine on a spin cycle my stomach experienced just after I posted the first chapter!**

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Chapter 2 The Physician's Chambers:

Merlin was late; he had run from the armoury to his shared chambers, where he was supposed to be helping Gaius. The Warlock burst through the door and was forced to stop. This was no easy task, the forward momentum of his trunk propelled him over his feet and he only managed to halt his progress by coming onto his toes and wind milling his arms frantically. His body may have ceased to move but it felt like his brain kept going and was being bounced back and forth against his skull.

When his vision re focused, Merlin examined the raised index finger that was inches from his chest, the person that it belonged to was engrossed in his work.

"I've spent all morning preparing this, I need to concentrate" was the only explanation, "Could you pass me the cedar wood and thyme please".

Gaius held out his hand, beckoning with his fingers expectantly. Not once did he look up from the potion he was brewing.

Merlin went to a cluttered shelf and selected the appropriate vials, handing them silently to his surrogate father.

Merlin watched in horror and fascination as the pale pink liquid morphed into a viscous and black homogenous mass and began bubbling uncontrollably. Smoke swirled from its surface ominously and then it erupted like a rampant volcano. Molten projectiles were sent in all directions and created smouldering craters whenever they landed on Gaius work bench and possessions. Glass jars exploded and little fires sprang into life igniting anything that had come in contact with the tar like substance.

Merlin's eyes flared gold and the ebony river solidified, he blinked again and it disappeared along with the fires and broken glass. The warlock let out a sigh, his outreached hand dropping to his side with a resounding slap, the sound was echoed by Gaius, as he emerged from his hiding place behind a table and clipped his ward around the ear with considerable force.

"You stupid boy, what were you thinking?" the furious physician barked.

"I didn't think..." Merlin's attempt at an explanation was cut short as Gaius stormed

"No, that's the problem, you don't think. Your head is in the clouds, your own thoughts more important, all I asked for was two simple herbs, it's not complicated, it's not difficult, the names were clearly written on the bottles all you had to do was look" he flapped his arms in desperation, sighed and turned his back on the dejected Warlock.

"Gaius, I'm sorry" Merlin gazed at the bottles in his hand, how could he have made a mistake like that? It was careless and he felt foolish and like the idiot he was frequently accused of being.

The old man turned towards his ward "Perhaps you should go to the training grounds, Arthur will wonder where you are, I'll clear up the mess in here" he said curtly.

Merlin knew when he had been dismissed. He should really stay and clear up, but he did not want to, he wanted the room to open up and swallow him whole. Ironically that would have probably happened if the out of control potion had run its course. For an old man in the caring profession Gaius packed quite a punch and the servant did not want to be on the receiving end again, so he nodded an apology and headed for the training grounds.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank-you once again for all the support and encouragement. I am very grateful to all those who took the time to read, review, favourite and follow - it means a lot.**

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Chapter 3 The Training Grounds:

The training grounds had been a disaster. Merlin cringed inwardly and tried to expunge the memories from his mind, but the images from the day's events resolutely stayed put. He shook his head, which caused pain and did nothing to distract him, the flashes kept coming back to haunt him.

He had arrived late of course; Arthur had berated him for his tardiness and reminded him yet again, he was the worst servant in the kingdoms employ. A verbal spar ensued. This was something Merlin enjoyed, something he was good at normally. Normally, he was confident of having the last word and prided himself on his wordplay, being as skilful with his tongue as any knight with a sword. Usually he was quick witted with his retorts and insults but not today. Today, words failed him, his exchanges stilted and muddled, a sharp response dulled by a fudged punch line.

"I always thought you were an idiot Merlin, and now you've confirmed it" Crowed Arthur.

"Prat!" Merlin responded, finding no trouble with that one.

Merlin was strong and self-assured, armed with the knowledge he was a powerful force, a wielder of magic, only acting the fool, but there had been no pretence today. Insults that usually rolled off his armour like water got underneath and soaked into his soul and dampened his heart. What was he without his gift, an empty husk? The jester they all believed him to be?

This was ridiculous, it wasn't the burdens of his destiny that were getting him down, it was the trivial, insignificant and unimportant minutiae of the day.

They laughed at him, all of them, laughing at him and all his inadequacies.

Gwaine had been the worst, cackling away; Merlin had wanted to wipe the smile off his cocky face. He had conjured a wind to knock the loose locked knight over. That was the intent, but that's not what happened, instead the lanky wizard was subjected to a relentless bout of impromptu flatulence. If that was not sufficient humiliation to ruin his already dismal day Gwaine gleefully ribbed the servant about eating too many sprouts, not getting close to naked flames and worst of all how the lack of a good woman to share his bed was a blessing on this occasion.

The warlock was livid and somehow the jovial knight tripped on a tree root and fell face first into the dirt ripping the back seam and crotch of his trousers. Replete with grass stains the dishevelled and now 'green' knight had to resort to using his shield to maintain his dignity. He was strangely quiet after that, much to Merlin's relief, his pounding head glad of the respite.

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**Next Chapter, Arthur and Merlin have a little chat and things come to a head.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks again for all the support, it's a much better response than I could have imagined. Almost there now, this one and the final chapter are my favourites, I hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter 4 The King's Chambers:

Arthur surveyed his servant; Merlin had been in an odd mood all day. Well, half a day, no one had seen him all morning then he'd arrived at the training grounds flustered and unkempt. His brown jacket was stained with black goo and even looked singed in places. He had been downright irritable, his usual sunny countenance and ungainly but cheeky swagger absent.

Something was clearly bothering Merlin and Arthur had decided to investigate by engaging in some friendly banter, but it had not gone to plan. The servant's responses had been below par and feeble at best. Then there had been some sort of altercation with Gwaine and Merlin had scuttled off before Arthur had had a chance to talk to him.

The Sovereign examined his subject again; Merlin was pale, peaky even, his shoulders were hunched and he held his head at an awkward angle. The warlock's brow was partly obscured by a dark fringe but he was frowning in his concentration and the paper in his long fingers trembled.

Arthur was proud of the speech he had written; Guinevere had only helped a little, a couple of tweaks here and there. He'd given it to Merlin in the full expectation of a glowing report, but his servant seemed to be taking an age to pass comment. The king sighed; he was growing impatient and started to drum his fingers on the table in anticipation.

Merlin wanted the day to be over, he was tired and the headache that had followed him around all afternoon in the background was at the forefront and firmly ensconced, banging away behind his left eye. He wanted to go to bed, to crawl under the covers and wake up fresh in the morning. He couldn't of course because his master had given him a scroll to read and comment on. Usually he could skim through these things with ease, offering some subtle changes and suggestions wrapped up in compliments, but today he couldn't concentrate. He was distracted by a drumming noise, he tried to drown it out and focus on the task in hand.

The letters danced across the page like pretty maidens on the summer solstice, never staying in place long enough to pin down and gather their meaning.

"So, what do you think?"

"Erm, it's good, very good, well done" Merlin made to offer the paper back to the king, with a slight grimace.

"What are your thoughts on what I said about the Caerleons? Was it too much?"

"I don't think I got that far"

"It was in the third paragraph, what is wrong with you Merlin? Have you forgotten how to read, spent too much time in the Tavern and damaged those last few brain cells of yours?"

"Of course I can read, it's just _your_ handwriting I can't read, it's terrible, the worst in the kingdom. It looks like a spider took a bath in an inkwell and dried itself on the paper"

"It most certainly is not, nobody's said anything before"

"Well they wouldn't would they? You're the king. You are the one always banging on about not wanting to be treated differently because of who you are, but you don't like it when I tell the truth" Merlin huffed exasperated. There was a long pause, and then Arthur responded.

"It's not the worst. What about Gaius?"

"He's the physician; nobody's expected to read his hand writing"

There was silence, Merlin sighed licked his dry lips and stared at the paper again. He wanted nothing more than to scrunch it into a ball and throw it in the face of his insensitive Sovereign.

The thought made a smile play at the corner of his lips, but that was not an option. The scowl returned and he re read the first three lines for the umpteenth time, still making little sense of the text.

Merlin usually excelled in multitasking, his eyes missed nothing and his reflexes were sharp when he wanted them to be. But he was so engrossed, he did not hear the scrape of metal against the table and the faint whistle as the goblet made its ascent through the air in a perfect arc. He was oblivious to its journey until its end, smack in the middle of his forehead.

The servant crumpled, his knees buckled, his torso and head followed, landing on the floor in an undignified heap and releasing a small grunt as he flopped back onto the hard surface. The only other sound was the jewelled goblet as it hit the ground, making ever decreasing circles, spinning on its axis until it finally came to a stop.

Arthur had watched the scene play out in apparent slow motion, the king had lost count of the times he'd thrown things at his servant but never had he had such a reaction. He'd never wanted to hurt Merlin, merely gain his attention and now he wasn't attending to anything or anyone, he was lying sprawled on the king's floor and no amount of jostling and name calling would wake him from his slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for all the support, it has meant so much to me. So, here we are, the final chapter, hope you have enjoyed it as much as I have.**

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Chapter 5 The Recovery:

He was lying on a soft and familiar bed. The room was dark and comforting; the heavy scent of fresh herbs infused the air. He was in his chambers, lying on his bed which is where he'd wanted to be all day but he could not remember how he got there.

"Feeling any better?" Gaius's gentle inquiry broke through the warlock's musings.

"What happened?"

"Well, Arthur carried you in here last night, after you collapsed in his room". Gaius paused, "The king was quite frantic, saying it was an accident, he said you had been out of sorts all day, acting strangely and not yourself, but he swore he had not meant to hit you so hard"

"He hit me?" Merlin squeaked and instinctively brought a hand to his forehead feeling raised skin in the shape of a crescent, tender to the touch. Great, he had been branded a citizen of Camelot, to roam forever with a giant capital 'C' embossed on his face.

"Apparently," Gaius continued, "But I don't think that's what caused the problem." He leaned in, examining his ward with a raised eyebrow "Did anything else happen yesterday Merlin, any other mishaps?"

"I slipped on some oil in the Armoury and knocked myself out. I was fine, my head hurt a bit, but I didn't have a mark on me; there were no cuts or scrapes, nothing"

"Nothing?"

"I had trouble concentrating and my words were getting a bit muddled and it was hard to spell and read. Everything kept getting mixed up" supplied the warlock, slightly abashed.

"You did not think to mention it? Merlin, you were suffering from a concussion, you of all people should know, after someone hits their head you have to be careful. There was a sizeable bump on the left side of you skull above your ear" explained Gaius "I've seen knights injured in a similar place, lose the ability to speak altogether and sometimes they could no longer understand what people were saying and were forced to retire".

Merlin swallowed, his mouth having lost all its moisture. "I'm going to be left like this permanently?"

Gaius chuckled, "Come now Merlin, your affliction was relatively insignificant"

"_To you maybe, but it was pretty damn significant to me"_ thought Merlin indignantly

"Besides" the Physician continued " I have given you a cold compress and some Hawthorne to stimulate blood flow and your magic should take care of the rest. I anticipate a full recovery; you just need to recuperate overnight"

The sorcerer's eyes were already half closed and he lost the battle to keep them open.

"Sleep well, Merlin, I'll see you in the morning" the old man whispered as he gently closed the door on his exhausted but peaceful ward.

He awoke, feeling warm and well rested. Sun filtered through shutters illuminating specks of dust and making them sparkle in the bright light. Before the Warlock had realised what he was doing, he had whispered in the language of the old religion and with a deft hand the particles rearranged themselves into a majestic dragon that spread its wings and flew toward the window. Merlin blinked, letting the dust go back to its original form.

Merlin smiled and felt euphoric, but he had to be sure. Fishing into his pocket he pulled out a piece of paper, with a list of jobs written on it. He glanced at the paper and cringed, a couple of the words were miss spelt and he had written something about 'mucking out houses' and 'polishing Arthur', flushing he turned the parchment over and wrote the most complicated spell he could muster, perfectly. Oh yes, he was back. He said the words that would erase both sides of the paper; he couldn't have anyone finding either side of that piece of incriminating evidence.

He felt good, he felt great. Camelot and her inhabitants were safe once more, their secret sorcerer fighting fit and ready for action. Merlin swung his feet over the edge of the bed with vigour, his right foot landing in the recently used chamber pot. He brought his knee up in a reflex action, hitting his chin and unbalancing himself, a movement that caused him to fall backwards and off the bed with a crash.

The door to his chambers was flung open, Gaius observed the scene.

"You're up then, sleep well?"

"Never better, everything's back to normal" the sheepish ward replied.

"So I see" Gaius raised an eyebrow. "I'll leave you to get dressed, don't be late for Arthur" was the Physicians parting shot as he left the room.

Merlin began to get ready, some things don't change; he had always been clumsy, no one was perfect, but very occasionally he felt pretty damn close. The thought brought a crooked smile to his face and illuminated his delicate features. Today was going to be a good day and he wanted to get on with it.

THE END

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**So, there you have it, all finished as promised. Writing this little story has been a wonderful ride for me and I hope for you too.**

**People in the show were constantly being hit on the head and rendered unconscious. After an interlude sufficient for them to miss something important or be held back, they would awaken, fully restored with no consequences or apparent side effects to being bludgeoned in such a delicate place. This story was my attempt to redress the balance.**

**When I started on this journey, I was advised to tackle something I knew; thankfully, I have never suffered a concussion - although I know those who have. However, being dyslexic, I am only to familiar with misspelling, misreading, jumbled words, letters and meanings and all the frustration that causes.**

** In an early draft, this was very nearly a story of Merlin the 'magic welder' and how he helped the once and future king with his 'accent', I have my husband to thank for proof reading and spotting those gems and others before they made it into the text.**

**So, thank-you for helping me bury some of my own literacy demons, I know they will come back (zombie style) but at the moment, all is good. Dyslexia never goes away, but I can cope with it much better now.**

**You never know, I may even be tempted to dip my nib in the inkwell of fanfiction again - but for now, I am content to sit back - read and enjoy the work of others.**


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